The past was a sleep, and her life began.'

'Shall we have a boat?' he said impulsively.

How blissful it all is at first. Perhaps, indeed, the only bliss in
the course of love which can truly be called Eden-like is that which
prevails immediately after doubt has ended and before reflection has
set in--at the dawn of the emotion, when it is not recognized by
name, and before the consideration of what this love is, has given
birth to the consideration of what difficulties it tends to create;
when on the man's part, the mistress appears to the mind's eye in
picturesque, hazy, and fresh morning lights, and soft morning
shadows; when, as yet, she is known only as the wearer of one dress,
which shares her own personality; as the stander in one special
position, the giver of one bright particular glance, and the speaker
of one tender sentence; when, on her part, she is timidly careful
over what she says and does, lest she should be misconstrued or
under-rated to the breadth of a shadow of a hair.

'Shall we have a boat?' he said again, more softly, seeing that to
his first question she had not answered, but looked uncertainly at
the ground, then almost, but not quite, in his face, blushed a
series of minute blushes, left off in the midst of them, and showed
the usual signs of perplexity in a matter of the emotions.

Owen had always been with her before, but there was now a force of
habit in the proceeding, and with Arcadian innocence she assumed
that a row on the water was, under any circumstances, a natural
thing. Without another word being spoken on either side, they went
down the steps. He carefully handed her in, took his seat, slid